I've Got You
by Jo. R
Summary: He wants me to know I'm under his thumb," Gil, 'Anonymous.' G/C. S/N.
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: I've Got You  
AUTHOR: Jo R.  
EMAIL: Jo@Ram32.freeserve.co.uk   
CATEGORY: AU/What if? Angst, Catherine/Grissom UST/Friendship, Nick/Sara   
Romance.   
RATING: PG-13.  
SPOILERS: 'Pilot,' 'Cold Change,' 'Anonymous', 'Lady Heather's Box,' set in late   
season three.  
SUMMARY: "He's letting me know he's got me under this thumb." Grissom,   
'Anonymous.'   
ARCHIVE: IB (www.infinitelybetter.com) , Catherine Willows, Working Love,   
Shipperworld and Graveshift, my site and FF.net.  
DISCLAIMER: CSI, as with all good shows, belongs to TPTB. Until I'm rich, famous   
and one of them (i.e. until I go to sleep tonight!) I own nothing. No offence or   
copyright infringement is meant. I'm just playin'.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Am taking creative liberties with this fic – at the time of   
planning it, I didn't know the whole Millander thing was wrapped up in season two!   
For the sake of the story, either that episode never happened or this is how it *could*   
have happened – the C/G shipper version ;)  
  
DEDICATION: Ruthie, who I'm slowly getting hooked on CSI and who had this idea   
and forced me to write it. Clara, for being the one to get me hooked and supplying me   
with fic/vids. And Jen, for helping maintain the addiction with her fic.  
  
~*~  
  
The warehouse was cold and the floor was damp.  
  
She'd given up fighting to be free a long time ago, surrendering herself to the fact she   
wouldn't be able to get herself out of the mess she was in – not alone, anyway.   
Catherine had even decided to be grateful for the gag she'd been forced to wear – it   
helped block the heady smell of melted rubber from invading her senses anymore than   
necessary.  
  
Resting her head against the wall, she listened intently as her kidnapper hummed to   
himself as he worked, relieved when she worked out his echoing footsteps were going   
in the opposite direction.  
  
Away from her.  
  
Her relief was short-lived, though.   
  
After a moment of silence, she heard his voice. Smug, taunting, conversational.  
  
"It's me, Grissom. Times a wastin'. There's only two hours to go before Ms. Willows   
dies."  
  
He hung up without waiting for a reply, just like always. She didn't need to be able to   
see him to know that.  
  
Wincing, struggling impulsively against the restraints that kept her hands bound   
behind her back, Catherine could do nothing but glare as he approached her, his pace   
maddeningly slow as if he had all the time in the world.  
  
Something she didn't have. Her time was running out.  
  
She flinched when he knelt on the cold floor in front of her, jerking her head back   
away from his touch, seething at the amused grin that passed over his lips.  
  
"Don't look so worried, Catherine. I've got you. But if Grissom doesn't find us.. It'll all   
be over soon." Paul Millander chuckled at the panic she couldn't keep from showing   
in her eyes, shaking his head as he stood up and turned to walk away, humming as he   
went.  
  
'You've never let me down before, Gil,' she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he would   
somehow pick up on her silent message. 'Please don't start now.'  
  
~*~  
  
Homicide or Suicide? That was the question.  
  
All the evidence pointed to suicide but there was something a little off with that   
conclusion. Something just didn't feel right and that was enough to keep looking Gil   
Grissom looking. Unless his instincts agreed with the evidence, he was reluctant to   
close a case and he was certain that in this instance his gut was in the right.  
  
He just needed the evidence to prove it.  
  
Bored with tapping his fingers against the smooth wood of the desk, the latest   
crossword already complete and cast aside, Grissom moved to pick up the receiver   
just as the phone began to ring.  
  
Composing himself and regaining his balance, he snatched up the receiver and put it   
to his ear, eyes moving to the door to his office as it opened suddenly. "Grissom." He   
spoke into the phone at the same time as nodding a greeting to Catherine Willows and   
Sara Sidle, two CSI's he worked with, both of whom seemed flustered.  
  
"Mr. Grissom, how nice it is to hear your voice. It's been a while, hasn't it?" The voice   
on the other end of the line sounded familiar but Grissom struggled to match it with a   
name, his attention divided between his caller and the two women who were   
obviously trying to get his full attention. "Don't tell me you don't recognise my voice!   
I know it's been a while but I'd be hurt if you couldn't remember me.." The laughter   
that accompanied the words sent shivers down his spine.  
  
"Millander." The name was said through ground teeth. Grissom noticed the alarmed   
look exchanged by Sara and Catherine, and assumed they'd been trying to warn him.   
"Can I assume you're calling to let me know you're behind Pete Walker's supposed   
suicide?"  
  
Paul Millanders laughter was all the confirmation he needed. "Just thought I'd make   
sure you knew," Millander's smile could be heard in the way he spoke.  
  
Grissom was left listening to the dial tone before he could say anything in response.   
He closed his mouth and looked to Catherine and Sara, one eyebrow raised   
inquisitively as he tried to reign in his temper. "You wanted to speak to me?"  
  
"Looks like you already know most of it." Her shoulders slumping, Catherine moved   
to sit in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk. She waited for Sara to join   
her and arched an eyebrow when the younger CSI lingered by the door. "Sara? You   
want to tell Grissom when we found?"  
  
Sara shook her head and gave them a quick, vaguely sheepish smile. "You can tell   
him. I was wondering if it'd be okay for me to leave now..? Shifts almost over and.."  
  
"Go, get some sleep." Grissom waved her away with a small, curious smile when she   
seemed to blush under Catherine's scrutiny. "It's unusual for you to want to leave,   
Sara. Usually we have to drag you away."  
  
Catherine snorted in an unladylike way and rolled her eyes at him. "You mean we   
usually have to drag the two of you away." Her smile turned teasing as her eyes fell   
on the seemingly nervous woman edging towards the door. She'd spent the last three   
hours trying to determine why Sara was so jumpy and kept checking her watch and   
Catherine suspected she'd discovered the reason. "Sounds to me like you're coming   
down with something. Either that or you've got a hot date you don't want us to know   
about."  
  
Her words caused the young woman's face to darken to a deeper shade of crimson. "I..   
ah.. I have to go."  
  
Having too much fun to let the subject drop, Catherine leaned back in her chair and   
called after Sara when she escaped the office. "Have fun, Sara! Don't do anything I   
wouldn't do!"  
  
Chuckling to herself as the door closed and Sara vanished from sight, Catherine   
returned her attention to Grissom, pleased to see he'd been successfully distracted for   
the moment at least. She didn't want to wipe the amused smile from his face but knew   
he had a right to know what she and Sara had discovered.  
  
"There was another suicide note, Gil. Nick found the tape when he was checking over   
the scene. We think it might have been disturbed when housekeeping discovered the   
body since it isn't Millander's style to play hide and seek with the tapes." She tried to   
ignore the sympathetic guilt that swelled in her chest at seeing the humour fade from   
his eyes. "He wanted us to find it because it's personalised. Written, so to speak, to   
you."  
  
"To me?" Leaning forward, his blue eyes wide behind the lenses of his glasses,   
Grissom stared at her in surprise. "How? What does it say?"  
  
"You can hear it for yourself after Warrick's finished dusting for prints. The gist of it   
is that theres's an additional part to the original script, directed at 'Mr. Grissom.' He..   
He thanks you, for letting him go, and asks if you've worked it out yet." Catherine   
swallowed a sigh and tried to keep her own concern at bay. It wasn't easy, though. Not   
when a murderer had targeted her best friend. "We don't know if were on the right   
lines but Sara and I realised something. It might not be what he wanted us to work out   
but it explains why you."  
  
He blinked twice but other than that remained completely still. "Why?"  
  
"Your birthday, Gil. You were born in the same month Millander's father died. Not   
only that but you were born on the same day of the same month in the same year as   
Millander himself." Subconsciously, she leaned forward until they were close, the   
cluttered desk being the only thing that separated them. "It's part of the mind game   
he's playing, Gil. I'm not sure if it was a coincidence the first time you were called to   
the scene or if he planned to kill these people in Vegas to get your attention but either   
way, I don't like it. You're going to have to be careful, Grissom." Concern and worry   
shone in her eyes. "Promise me you'll be careful."  
  
Not entirely sure whether he was touched or uncomfortable at the degree of anxiety in   
her voice, Grissom sat back in his chair, putting some more distance between them.   
He cared for Catherine – more than he thought she knew – and although he was   
comfortable showing fear for her, he felt awkward when she displayed it for him.   
"You know me, I'm always careful, Catherine. Is there anything else I should know?"  
  
Biting back a sigh and repressing the urge to roll her eyes, Catherine took his cool   
approach with a pinch of salt. She knew he wasn't deliberately trying to hurt her but   
recently it seemed that whenever she tried to inject a little warmth back into their   
friendship he'd respond by taking a step back and putting more distance between   
them.  
  
"The only other thing we found out is that the 'I love you, Mom' phrase of each of the   
suicide recordings definitely comes from Millander. The last victim, Pete Walker, said   
it on the tape but his mother died three years ago of natural causes." Folding her arms   
over her chest, she surveyed him with a questioning look on her face. "What are you   
thinking, Grissom? What's going on in that brain of yours?"  
  
Grissom lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug, his gaze fixed on a shelf on the other   
side of the office. "I'm thinking.. I should've realised it was him. I should have noticed   
the connection to me.. I should have picked up on the Mom thing. We don't know   
anything about her but we should. Is she dead or alive? If she's alive, where does she   
live? Their relationship is an important element here, one we've been missing. 'I love   
you, Mom.' Is he trying to let his mom know he loves her or is it ironic?"  
  
"We can find out. Millander isn't such a common name, it shouldn't take long to do a   
records search." Getting to her feet, Catherine wasn't surprised when he mimicked   
her, having already assumed he'd be taking over the investigation now they knew it   
Millander was involved. It was personal to Grissom, and that's why she wasn't going   
to let him work on it alone. "One thing, Gil." She stopped him at the door by putting a   
hand to his chest and letting it linger there briefly. "You said 'I' a lot. If there's one   
thing you've taught all of us it's that there's no 'i' in team. You're not alone on this so   
stop thinking as if you are."  
  
The admonition stated, Catherine opened the door and preceded him out into the   
corridor. He didn't say anything as he fell into step beside her but managed to convey   
a silent apology by letting his fingers graze the small of her back, one he knew was   
accepted when he saw the corners of her mouth curl up into the slightest of smiles.  
  
Joining Warrick Brown in the CSI lab, Grissom and Catherine settled in for the   
morning, knowing they were in it for the long haul.  
  
~*~  
/part one  
~*~ 


	2. I've Got You, pt 2

~*~  
  
By midday, the CSI team knew all they could possibly want to know about Isabelle   
Millander, mother to the serial killer they weren't sure if they were hunting or being   
hunted by. Irrelevant facts filled their heads until they were brimming with   
nonsensical information. Then they struck gold.  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Millander had never had a son. They'd had a daughter, Pauline, who had   
been so devastated by her father's death she'd decided to do whatever necessary to   
preserve his memory – even if it meant becoming him.   
  
"She was a daddy's girl," Catherine summarised, stifling a yawn with her hand.   
"Think we can assume Millander's relationship with Mom wasn't as close as the one   
with his father?"  
  
"It's possible. Or Mom could've disapproved of Pauline's change to Paul." Grissom   
looked at her carefully, noting the bags under her eyes. "Or maybe we're both way off   
base. You look tired, Catherine."  
  
Shrugging off his concern, she squinted at the monitor in an attempt at seeing the   
screen clearer. "I'm fine, Grissom. I'll go when you go."  
  
"That'll be now then." Grissom stood and hid a grin at the look of annoyance that   
passed over her face. "I don't need a bodyguard, Cath, but we both need to get some   
sleep. We can pick up where we left off when our shift starts tonight. Go home, get a   
few hours sleep, spend some time with Lindsey before you have to take her to your   
sisters."  
  
"Are you feeling okay, Gil?" Letting him pull her to her feet, ignoring the tingling   
sensation where his hand briefly grasped hers, Catherine couldn't resist questioning   
his decision. "I've known you to work fifty three hours non stop before. You're not   
coming down with anything, are you? I was only teasing Sara before but this isn't like   
you.."  
  
"I'm *fine*," he emphasised the word with an amused grin. "I could do with some   
sleep.. Must be my age getting to me.."  
  
Rolling her eyes, Catherine fought the urge to snort derisively. "You have more   
staying power than any guy I know. Warrick and Nick bailed hours ago and they   
never last as long as you do without sleep.."  
  
The arched eyebrow and the look that accompanied it was enough to send a warm   
flush climbing up her cheeks. "Would you say you're in a position to compare my   
staying power with that of Nick and Warrick? Is this something we should talk   
about..?"  
  
"Okay, I'm going now. You've convinced me you need to get some sleep." Shaking   
her head, trying not to smile, Catherine walked with him to the locker room. "But you   
will go home, right? And sleep? You won't stay up doing crosswords all night or   
sneak back here when you think I'm not looking..?"  
  
After promising he wouldn't, the two walked from the locker room to the parking lot   
in companionable silence, going their separate ways after exchanging their goodbyes.   
Grissom shook his head with wry amusement hen he noticed Catherine waiting for   
him to pull out first, waving to her as he drove passed.  
  
How was he to know there was a chance he would never see her again? Had he any   
inclination that it was a possibility, he never would have let her go home alone.  
  
~*~   
  
Grave shift started as usual – Grissom arrived ten minutes before he should have and   
was unsurprised to find Nick Stokes, Sara and Warrick were already there, teasing   
each other mercilessly in the breakroom as they waited for their assignments to be   
given. It came as no surprise to Grissom that Sara was the one to receive most of the   
attention that evening, and that the subject was her mysterious date the morning   
before, but it did make him wonder when Nick didn't join in.  
  
Shaking his head, knowing he'd find out eventually, Grissom continued on to his   
office, a thick wad of messages from the front desk in hand. When he got there and   
sat at his desk, he noticed the red light on his direct line was flashing, letting him   
know he had more messages to contend with.  
  
Pressing play, Grissom listened with one ear as he shuffled through the pieces of   
paper the helpful clerk had pushed into his hand almost as soon as he'd walked   
through the door.  
  
He frowned when he saw three of the written messages were from Catherine's sister   
and the cold knot in the pit of his stomach tightened when he heard the familiar voice   
of Lindsey Willows come out of the speaker on the answering machine.   
  
"Uncle Gill? Is Mommy there with you? She didn't pick me up from school like she   
said she would and when we got home, her car was there but she wasn't. Can you ring   
me at Aunt Louise's house if you know where Mommy is? Or get her to call. Aunt   
Louise says I can wait up. Thanks, Uncle Gil. Love ya."  
  
The next message began to play as Grissom stood and reached for the phone to call   
Catherine's pager. The voice he heard made his blood run cold, even before his mind   
processed the words his caller was saying.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Grissom. I have something that belongs to you. Say hello, Catherine."   
The tape picked up the sound of a struggle and Grissom winced when he heard the   
sound of hand meeting flesh. "She's not very well behaved, Grissom. You should have   
trained her better. Ah, well, that can't be helped now. I thought I'd call and let you   
know I'll be ending this soon enough. I'm tired of playing games and waiting for the   
perfect moment. I decided to create my own in the hopes I'd find peace. Don't bother   
trying to find us, Grissom. If I so much as suspect you're coming uninvited, I'll waste   
no time in punishing Ms. Willows. Wait for my call and I'll let you know what   
happens next."  
  
The phone clicked as Millander hung up and the tape automatically rewound itself.  
  
Gil sat frozen in his chair in a state of shock, the messages from Catherine's sister   
clenched in his fist. Millander had Catherine. She'd been worried about him when   
she'd been the one in danger. Millander had Catherine. Because she was the tool he   
could use to hurt Grissom the most.  
  
"Hey, boss." Warrick entered the office with a grin on his face. "You planning to give   
us any work sometime tonight or.." Noticing something, perhaps the bloodless pallor   
of his skin, Warrick stopped mid-sentence. "What's wrong?" He looked around when   
Grissom didn't answer, shifting uneasily when he realised they were one CSI short of   
a full shift. He and the others had assumed Catherine and Grissom where already   
holed up together, back to work on the Millander case, but the expression on their   
supervisor's face seemed to suggest something else. "Is something wrong with Cath?   
Has something happened?"  
  
Grissom snapped out of the haze he was under at the mention of her name. "Millander   
has her," the words tumbled out of his mouth, his alarmed blue eyes locking onto   
Warrick. "He left a message to let me know."  
  
"How considerate." Warrick grimaced and sat down in the other chair, his legs   
unexpectedly weakened by the news. Not only was Catherine a good friend of his but   
her being in danger reminded him of Holly Gribbs, a young CSI who'd died while   
he'd supposed to have been watching her. Every time one of his colleagues was in   
trouble, Warrick remembered Holly, felt the guilt her death had left on his conscience   
like a never fading stain and swore he would do whatever possible to prevent it from   
happening again. "What do we do? Do we know where they are? What did he say?"  
  
Wordlessly, Grissom replayed the two messages on the machine, the one from   
Lindsey followed immediately by the man who had her mother. For several seconds   
after the tape had ended, neither man spoke.  
  
"Son of a bitch!" Warrick leapt up from his seat, anger replacing fear, his brown eyes   
flashing fire. "We can't sit around and do nothing but wait for him. That's what the   
crazy bastard wants us to do."  
  
"Exactly." Grissom stood and carefully slid the small cassette tape from the machine.   
"You take this to the sound guys. Try to isolate any sound I the background that might   
give us a clue as to where they are. Tell Nick and Sara to go to Catherine's house and   
look for anything Millander might have left behind – either on purpose or by accident.   
We're going to go over ever piece of evidence he's left us and see if we've missed   
something. Someone should try and contact Mrs. Millander, too. She might be able to   
tell us something we don't know."  
  
"I can do that while I'm waiting for the guys to get back to us about the tape." Warrick   
gave his boss and small nod, amazed at how professional and efficient he could be   
even when worried about someone who meant a great deal to him– possibly more,   
Warrick was willing to bet, than Grissom had realised. "Ah.. One thing, boss." His   
hesitant tone stopped Grissom from leaving the office. "Lindsey and her Aunt.   
Someone needs to call them and let them know what's going on"  
  
Swallowing hard, Grissom banished the thought that Lindsey could lose her mother so   
soon after losing her father. That wouldn't happen. He wouldn't let it. "I'll call them.   
It'll be.. easier.. coming from me." Retaking his seat, Grissom reached reluctantly for   
the phone. "Can you give Nick and Sara their assignments?"  
  
"No problem." Warrick nodded again and left the office, the small tape held securely   
in his palm. He didn't envy Grissom's job of breaking the news to Catherine's   
daughter but he still wished he didn't have to be the one to tell the others that she was   
gone.  
  
Dialling the number Catherine had left in his address book in case of emergencies, Gil   
held his breath as the phone on the other end started to ring.  
  
"Mommy? Is that you?" A breathless Lindsey picked up the phone on the fourth ring,   
her young voice so full of hope it made his eyes well with tears he refused to shed.   
  
"No, Linds. It's Uncle Gil." He cleared his throat, hating that it hurt to talk. "Can you   
put your Aunt Louise on for a minute?"  
  
"Aunt Louise! It's Uncle Gil on the phone!" Lindsey shouted for her aunt and he was   
grateful that she remembered to muffle her end of the phone with her hand as she did   
so. "Uncle Gil? Where's Mommy? Is she okay?"  
  
Lost for words, Grissom could only clear his throat again and feel incredibly relieved   
when Catherine's sister took the receiver from her niece. "Hello? Mr. Grissom?"  
  
"Hi Louise.. I.. I'm afraid I don't have any good news and I don't quite know how to   
say this so.. Catherine's disappeared, we have reason to believe it's connected to one   
of our cases.. We're doing everything we can to find her, Louise. I can promise you   
that."  
  
His piece said, Grissom sat back in his chair, closed his eyes and waited with dread   
for the woman's response.  
  
~*~  
/Part Two  
~*~ 


	3. I've Got You, pt 3

~*~  
  
The eerie thing was that nothing seemed out of place. Sara and Nick had arrived at the   
Willow household, both feeling uneasy and apprehensive and were discomforted by   
the fact that nothing looked as though it'd been disturbed when they got there.  
  
There were no obvious signs that Catherine had put up a fight – something they both   
knew she would have done if she were able. The living room was a little untidy but   
that was to be expected given a nine year old girl lived there. No house a child   
occupied could stay spotlessly clean and tidy – at least not for long.   
  
"There has to be something," Nick growled in frustration some twenty minutes after   
arriving on the scene. "A clue or sign that the guy was here. It isn't like him to be   
subtle."  
  
"It isn't like Catherine to let someone abduct her from her own home without even a   
small struggle." Sara sighed from where she was dusting the door handles for prints,   
voicing the fear neither had wanted to acknowledge. "She must have been subdued   
fairly quickly since there's nothing.."  
  
Nick shuddered, keeping the mental images at bay He'd seen too much to plead   
ignorance and claim he didn't understand what she was implying, they both had. The   
possibilities were endless and each other them frightening in their own way. "She's   
not dead," his firm statement seemed to echo around the quiet house and made her   
jump. "If she was dead, he'd have left her here for Grissom. He might have taken her   
by surprise, maybe even been here before she got home.. Maybe he drugged her   
somehow or threatened Lindsey.."  
  
"Or maybe he just knocked on the front door and she let him in?" Sara frowned when   
she uncovered dozens of fingerprints on the door handles, both on the inside and   
outside. "There has to be at least two dozen fingerprints here. It'll take too long to   
identify them all."  
  
Swinging the strap of his camera over his shoulder, Nick started towards her only to   
stop when his keen eyes caught sight of something on the floor a few feet away from   
the door. A tiny drop, so small it could have been easily missed. Crouching down, he   
snapped a picture of the area before reaching into his pocket for a cotton bud and vial   
to collect the sample in. "While we're waiting to find out who those prints belong to,   
we can run this and see if we get a match." He passed before straightening, letting a   
hand rest on the carpet for a brief moment. "This is damp." Lifting his hand, he   
sniffed it cautiously, frowning at the familiar scent of disinfectant. "Carpets were   
cleaned recently. What'll you bet Catherine didn't have time to clean up herself and   
that she doesn't hire a cleaning service to do the housework when she's not here?"  
  
"We'll have to check but personally I'm not betting against you." Sara finished lifting   
the various prints and stored them safely in her bag. "Let's get back to the lab and see   
if we can get through this lot before Grissom has a nervous breakdown."  
  
Shooting her a sidelong glance, Nick closed the door behind them with a still-gloved   
hand. "Does it bother you that Grissom's so concerned about Catherine?"  
  
"Should it?" She gave him a quizzical look as they started down the path towards the   
car. "He'd be worried if any of us were missing. He cares about us all, even you   
surprisingly.."  
  
A small smile flickered over his lips at her attempt at lightening the mood but it didn't   
last long. "But he cares about Catherine a little differently to how he cares about the   
rest of us.."  
  
" I know, Nick, I'm not blind or stupid." Realising where the conversation was going,   
Sara hid her smile and walked around to her side of the car, opening the door and   
slipping in. "Do you still think I have non platonic feelings for Grissom? That I   
begrudge Catherine for the relationship they have? Maybe you think I don't want her   
found?"  
  
"No! Not at all.. But.. well.." He shifted uncomfortable in his seat, fingers fidgeting   
where they rested against the wheel. "There's been a lot of speculation that maybe   
there was possibly something going on between the two of you.."  
  
To his surprise and immense relief, Sara laughed at the expression on his face.   
"Grissom's like a father to me, Nick! Sure, there was a time when I might have had a   
crush on him but that's as far as it went and it certainly wasn't reciprocated.. He   
humoured it, flirted in return but.. I met Grissom when I was at a point where I really   
needed a father figure in my life. He filled that role without question and I'll always   
be grateful for that." Her smile turned sly, an eyebrow lifting as she turned in her seat   
to face him. "Didn't we go through this earlier? I mustn't have made it clear enough.."   
  
Before he could react, she leaned across the distance between them and kissed him   
briefly but thoroughly. Pulling back, her face was flushed and her lips were ever so   
slightly swollen. "When this is over and Catherine's back safe and sound, remind me   
to refresh your memory about where my affections lie."  
  
Grinning at her, Nick turned the key in the ignition and hoped, not for the first time,   
that they'd find Catherine alive and well as quickly as possible.  
  
~*~  
  
Warrick arrived back at the same time as Nick and Sara. Holding a bag almost   
identical to the one Sara carried, he jogged across the parking lot to greet them. "Find   
anything?"  
  
"At least a dozen prints on the door handles that could belong to anyone who's gone to   
Catherine's house for a visit and a single blood sample found on the carpet. Someone   
cleaned the place before we got there." Nick shrugged despondently, his arms hanging   
loosely at his sides as the three of them walked through the front doors. "What about   
you? Mrs. Millander say anything?"  
  
"Nope. Mrs. Millander wasn't home." Warrick's expression gave away his discomfort.   
"Found some traces of blood, though. Not a lot but enough to make me think she's in   
danger and didn't leave home willingly."  
  
Sara shook her head and led the two men straight to the lab, where a subdued Greg   
Sanders was waiting. He looked up expectantly when they entered, his face falling   
when the CSI shook her head in the negative.  
  
"We've got some blood samples and fingerprints to match." She put her bag on the   
table and took out he prints she'd lifted, placing tem on the bench beside the vial Nick   
took out of his pocket.  
  
"Grissom wants to see you all in the breakroom," Greg told them as Warrick put his   
vial on the opposite side of the bench to Nick's. "I'll get started here and do what I   
can.. When you're free, I take it you'll be coming back to help."  
  
"Sure." Nick spared the younger man a glance. "Don't worry, Greg, we're not   
expecting you to process all of this by yourself."  
  
"Good." Relief flooded his features. "The sooner it gets alone the sooner we.. you..   
can find Catherine."  
  
Exchanging sympathetic looks with the lab technician, the three CSI's filed out of the   
lab and headed for the breakroom, each wondering why Grissom wanted to see them   
there.  
  
~*~  
  
The TV and video were set up when they got there, with Grissom clutching the   
remote in his hand where he sat upright on a stool he'd brought in from the lab. He   
glanced up when he heard them but didn't need to ask if they'd found anything; he   
could tell there was no good news by the apologetic expressions they wore.  
  
"Pull up and chair and make yourselves comfortable. Millander sent us a home   
movie." As he spoke, his eyes flittered back to the screen of the television.   
  
"Have you watched it yet?" Keeping her voice soft and making a concerted effort to   
keep anything other than curiosity from appearing in her eyes, Sara sat down in the   
chair nearest to him.   
  
Silently, Grissom shook his head and waited until Warrick and Nick had sat down,   
too. "I thought that since we don't know what's going to be on the tape, we should   
watch it together. Eight eyes are better than two."  
  
Understanding and sharing his need for moral support, the four of them braced   
themselves for the worst case scenario when Grissom pressed play on the remote   
control.   
  
A woman's face came on screen, one Warrick recognised as belonging to Isabelle   
Millander. It was a close-up shot, allowing them no glimpse of their absent colleague   
or of Millander himself.  
  
"Introduce yourself." The voice that issued the order was unpleasantly familiar. The   
terrified expression on his mother's face sent shivers down their spines. The petrified   
tried to speak but couldn't get the words passed the tape over her mouth. Her attempts,   
however, served as a form of entertainment to her child, who chuckled cruelly. "I   
suppose it's a little hard with that over your mouth. Should we remove it, Mother? So   
you can introduce yourself to our audience?"  
  
With what could only be described as malicious intent, Millander tore off the tape, the   
camera wobbling with the action. The four CSI's watching the video winced at the   
sound it made but Millander didn't react at all to his mother's pain.  
  
"Pauline, please." Her voice shook but her impassioned pleas went ignored. "Don't do   
this. Let her go and we'll go home, okay? We'll talk about your father or whatever you   
want to talk about.. Please stop this. You don't have to do.."  
  
"Don't I?" He cut her off, the camera shaking unsteadily as he held it with trembling   
hands. "You drove me to this, Mother. You turned me away when I needed you. Why   
should I stop now when I'm so close? Why should I listen to you?"  
  
Mrs. Millander gazed at the camera – at her son – fearfully, the injuries she'd already   
sustained showing up clearing on the tape. Bruises, cuts.. the presence of the blood in   
her house was beginning to make sense to Warrick. "Because I'm your mother and I   
love you. I'm so sorry, Pauline.."  
  
"My name is Paul!" Millander shouted, his voice uneven and rough with emotion.   
One of his hands came into view and to the horror of the CSI team, it was clutching a   
gun. "You have never accepted me for who I am, Mother! You made me the person I   
am but you turned your back on me when I became something other than what you   
wanted! I'm sick of it, Mother. You won't do that again. Never again."  
  
He shot her without hesitation.  
  
The violence shook them all but what happened next was worse.  
  
Millander moved, the camera swinging around as he changed direction. He adjusted   
the zoom on the lens until it focused on the other occupant of the room.  
  
Catherine sat on the floor in the corner of an almost empty room. Her hands were   
obviously tied behind her back and she, too, had a gag in her mouth – a cloth gag as   
opposed to a piece of tape but it didn't make any of them feel any better. When the   
camera zoomed in on her, they could see the dry blood on her forehead and the fear in   
her eyes.   
  
"I don't know why I chose men, Catherine," Millander spoke calmly as he walked   
towards her, her eyes widening slightly at his approach. "I should've gone for women   
instead. It's much more.. satisfying." He laughed at the scowl on her face and turned   
the camera around so there was a close up of his face. "I hope you enjoyed the movie,   
Grissom. It's just a little something to keep you on your toes. Don't worry, though.   
You'll be hearing from me soon."  
  
The screen went fuzzy as the tape ended.  
  
For several long, tense minutes no one said anyone. No one dared to breathe. When   
Warrick eventually opened his mouth to talk, he was silenced by the ringing of one of   
their cell phones.  
  
Grissom's.  
  
Glancing down at the small screen, Grissom's eyes hardened when the number was   
recognised as being Catherine's mobile.  
  
"It's him," he announced to the three CSI's looking at him expectantly. "He's using   
Catherine's phone."  
  
~*~  
/Part three.  
~*~ 


	4. I've Got You, pt 4

~*~  
  
The warehouse was cold and the floor was damp.  
  
She'd given up fighting to be free a long time ago, surrendering herself to the fact she   
wouldn't be able to get herself out of the mess she was in – not alone, anyway.   
Catherine had even decided to be grateful for the gag she'd been forced to wear – it   
helped block the heady smell of melted rubber from invading her senses anymore than   
necessary.  
  
Resting her head against the wall, she listened intently as her kidnapper hummed to   
himself as he worked, relieved when she worked out his echoing footsteps were going   
in the opposite direction.  
  
Away from her.  
  
Her relief was short-lived, though.   
  
After a moment of silence, she heard his voice. Smug, taunting, conversational.  
  
"It's me, Grissom. Times a wastin'. There's only two hours to go before Ms. Willows   
dies."  
  
He hung up without waiting for a reply, just like always. She didn't need to be able to   
see him to know that.  
  
Wincing, struggling impulsively against the restraints that kept her hands bound   
behind her back, Catherine could do nothing but glare as he approached her, his pace   
maddeningly slow as if he had all the time in the world.  
  
Something she didn't have. Her time was running out.  
  
She flinched when he knelt on the cold floor in front of her, jerking her head back   
away from his touch, seething at the amused grin that passed over his lips.  
  
"Don't look so worried, Catherine. I've got you. But if Grissom doesn't find us.. It'll all   
be over soon." Paul Millander chuckled at the panic she couldn't keep from showing   
in her eyes, shaking his head as he stood up and turned to walk away, humming as he   
went.  
  
'You've never let me down before, Gil,' she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he would   
somehow pick up on her silent message. 'Please don't start now.'  
  
~*~  
  
The video was sent for analysis and all they could do was hope some of the   
background noise would match that of whatever noise they detected on the message   
Millander had left.  
  
Time was running out and all they had to go on were unidentified fingerprints, two   
sound files and the occasional phone call.  
  
All four CSI's joined Gren in the lab to try and determine who the fingerprints   
belonged to. They had to do something, had to keep themselves busy. If they didn't,   
they'd remember Catherine's face and see the fear she'd been trying to hide.  
  
"How many prints have we crossed out so far?" Warrick asked after just over an hour   
of working in almost complete silence. "We have to be getting *somewhere*."  
  
"Out of the prints Sara was able to lift, we got six different sets. One is Catherine's   
and another we can assume is Lindsey's because the shape and size is similar to that   
of the average kid. One set matches Eddie Willows, deceased, one set matches   
Grissom's. We're running the other two through the system now." Greg announced,   
pushing back from the computer on his chair, exhaustion written in the lines on his   
face. "Depending on how fast the computer words and if the people in question have   
their prints on file, we should be looking at a match in approximately.. ten to fifteen   
minutes."  
  
"Does it really matter about the prints?" Nick questioned, rolling his shoulders in an   
attempt at releasing the tension that plagued them. "We know Millander has her.. The   
video and phone calls are proof of that. Do we really need to know whether his prints   
pin him to the scene?"  
  
Sara gave him a sympathetic smile and straightened her back as she answered calmly.   
"We have to do something, Nick. We can't just sit here and wait or go out looking and   
hope we get lucky."  
  
"I'd rather do that than.." Nick didn't get the chance to finish voicing that particular   
line of thought because chaotic noise coursed through the lab.  
  
The pagers went off and the phone started to ring. Warrick checked his pager and saw   
the sound technicians had finished with the video and cassette. Grissom checked his   
pager and saw Brass was trying to reach him. Greg held a short conversation with the   
person on the phone, hung up and passed it to Grissom so he could call their colleague   
in the LVPD Homicide Department.   
  
"The guys are done with the sound analysis," Warrick announced to the group.  
  
"The blood found at Catherine's matches the blood found at the mother's. Millander   
must have used his Mom to get to Catherine – I bet at least one set of the prints we   
haven't identified yet belong to Isabelle Millander," Greg spoke as soon as Warrick   
finished speaking, the others absorbing the information as rapidly as possible.  
  
Grissom ended his conversation, his expression grim. "Brass thinks he may have   
found Isabelle Millander's body dumped on the edge of an industrial park on North   
Rancho Drive." He locked piercing eyes on each CSI in turn. "Sara, Warrick, I want   
you to go and see what the guys have from the recordings. Nick, you've with me.   
We'll go identify the body and have a look around. Greg, the minute you get a match   
on those fingerprints prints, let me know. It might not be a vital piece of evidence in   
this case but it's still evidence and helps towards building the bigger picture. Warrick,   
Sara, when you're done with the sound guys, call with any information you have and   
if we're not back, come and join us in searching. If Millander's keeping time we don't   
have long to find her."  
  
Warrick nodded briskly and left the lab almost immediately. Sara started to follow but   
lingered long enough to put a supportive hand on Grissom's shoulder. "We will find   
her, Grissom. She'll be okay."  
  
Somehow managing a weak smile of thanks, Grissom stood when Nick indicated he   
was ready to go and the two of them left the lab and the building.  
  
Throughout the short car journey, Nick tried to make reassuring small talk but when   
his attempts failed, he assumed Gil was lost in his thoughts and just didn't want to talk   
about it. In reality, everything around him went silence and the only thing Grissom   
could hear was the clock inside his head counting down.  
  
Second by second by second.  
  
~*~  
  
Maps were spread out over the small table in the sound studio, covering every inch of   
the surface with the edges dangling off the sides. Warrick leaned over them as the   
sound technician replayed the recording of background sounds picked up from both   
the video and the tape.  
  
"It sounds like it's near a road but not a busy one," Nigel Cullen, one of the   
technicians mused as his keen eyes scanned the map. "It doesn't sound like cars,   
though. Not fast enough or light enough."  
  
"Trucks and vans?" Warrick located North Rancho Drive on the map and followed it   
with his eyes. He located the industrial park and managed to find the area where   
Isabelle Millander's body was suspected to have been dumped. "Millander dumped his   
Mom around here. Do you think it's possible he didn't go far from his hiding place?"  
  
Nigel shrugged noncommittally. "It depends on whether your guy wants to be found."  
  
"He does," Sara inputted, gazing at the map. "He wants Grissom to find them either   
before he does something to Catherine or while he's doing it. It's Grissom he wants to   
suffer, Catherine's just the tool he decided to use." She narrowed her eyes and focused   
on three buildings that looked small on the map but that she knew would be at least   
the size of the CSI building in person. "These three factories are on the opposite side   
of the park to where the body is supposed to be. They're also nearer the entrance   
which would mean more traffic would go passed them than anywhere else."  
  
Warrick nodded and turned to Nigel, who'd moved to give the CSI's some room and   
sat back down at his computer. "Can you access the real estate database from your   
computer?"  
  
"I think so, yeah. Never used it before but I don't see why I shouldn't be able to."   
Nigel shrugged again and closed the programs he'd been using to isolate the   
background noise. "What do you want to know?"  
  
"Is there any factory space in North Rancho Drive Industrial Park that's either up for   
rent or has been recently rented on a temporary contract in the last week or so?" Sara   
filled in, catching on to Warrick's line of thought with a smile. "Millander owned a   
factory before, didn't he? The one where he met Grissom?"  
  
"It's possible he wants to recreate their first meeting," Warrick shrugged and walked   
over to Nigel. "He's focused on Grissom so I wouldn't be surprised if that's what he   
wanted."  
  
It only took a few minutes for Nigel to get into the right system and do the property   
search they'd requested. He sat back in his chair as the results came in, whistling to   
himself at the information that filled the screen. "Looks like your theory paid off. Unit   
17 is rented on a temporary lease to a Mr. G Grissom and the unit next to it, Unit 15,   
is vacant."  
  
"Figures that it's in Grissom's name," Warrick shook his head with a sigh. "It wouldn't   
have shown up in any of the searches he and Catherine did when they were looking   
for Isabelle."  
  
"And we'd never have thought to look at property under Grissom's name, would we?"   
Sara shrugged into her coat and headed for the door with Warrick just a few steps   
ahead. "You drive, I'll call Nick with the news."  
  
Nigel sat in his chair, surveying the maps spread over his desk and the tapes cast   
haphazardly over his workstation. "You're welcome, guys. No thanks necessary," he   
muttered, getting to his feet to start tidying the mess the eager CSI's had left behind.  
  
~*~  
/part four  
~*~ 


	5. I've Got You, pt 5

~*~  
  
The body was still fresh when they got to it. The face, minus the gunshot wound, was   
the one they'd watched plead with her son just moments before she'd been murdered.   
The memory of the fear, of the surprised dread in her eyes, would live on for a long   
time after Isabelle Millander was buried.  
  
"It's her," Grissom confirmed as Nick turned away to answer his phone. "It's Isabelle   
Millander."  
  
"Her son did this to her?" Captain Jim Brass stared down at the body, pity in his eyes.   
"Hell of a way to go."  
  
"He's not her son, he's a monster," Grissom muttered, kneeling down to stare at   
Isabelle Millander's features, relaxed and at peace in death. "And he's got Catherine,   
Brass. We've got just under half an hour to find her before.."  
  
Brass surprised him by putting a hand on his shoulder for a brief moment. "She'll be   
okay, Gil. We'll find her in time."  
  
"I hope so," Gil stood up, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat when his   
imagination morphed Isabelle into Catherine. "I really don't want to have to tell   
Lindsey that her Mom's dead. That I let her down."  
  
"You won't." Nick approached them, a bounce I his step that hadn't been there before.   
"Sara and Warrick are on their way, they think they know where Millander has   
Catherine. Unit 17 is rented to a Mr. G. Grissom and unless there's something going   
on in your life you haven't mentioned to us.."  
  
"Unit 17 in this park?" For the first time in what seemed like a long time, Grissom felt   
hope surge inside him. "That's on the other side of the park, right? Near the entrance?"  
  
"It'll take five minutes by car at the most." Brass commented excitably, starting   
towards his car but stopping when Gil reached out and caught his arm. "What? What   
are we waiting for?"  
  
Shaking his head, Grissom let go of Brass's sleeve, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "If   
we go back in the cars, he'll know we're coming. He's probably already jumpy with   
the amount of traffic here because of his Mom.. How long will it take on foot?"  
  
Quickly unfolding a map, Nick looked at the scale of the map and then at the distance   
between the point they were standing and unit 17. "Ten, maybe fifteen minutes if we   
hurry," he refolded the map and glanced up expectantly. "If we cut through those   
factories, it'll cut five minutes or more off the walk."  
  
"Let's go." Grissom nodded and turned in the direction he'd pointed. "Brass, tell the   
rest of your men to stay here and stay quiet. Nick, call Sara and Warrick and tell them   
to cut the engine before coming into the park and walk the rest of the way. We can't   
risk him knowing we're gaining on him in case he decides to do something to   
Catherine."  
  
~*~  
  
They had only just started walking when Grissom's phone began to ring. Taking it out   
of his pocket, he frowned, cold dread seeping into his stomach at the name that   
flashed across the screen.  
  
Catherine.  
  
In a clipped tone, tension squaring his shoulders, Grissom pressed the appropriate   
button and answered the phone. "Grissom."  
  
"Gil?"  
  
Hearing her voice instead of Millander was such a big shock that he almost dropped   
the phone. "Catherine? Is that you?"   
  
"My name is Catherine Willows," she began in a voice that shook with tears he could   
hear. "I reside at 241 Rose Coral Drive, Las Vegas, Nevada."   
  
"No, Cath.." Recognising the words from the suicide notes Millander had forced his   
victims to leave behind, Grissom's blood ran cold. "Don't.."  
  
He heard the telltale rustle of paper and knew she was reading aloud. "I am 40 years   
of age and I'm going to kill myself. I just can't do it anymore." Her voice broke and   
lowered to almost a whisper. "I love you, Gil."  
  
His pace quickened when he heard that, his heart clenching when he heard her cry   
out.  
  
"You'll be too late, Grissom," he heard Millander boast. "She'll be dead before you   
find her."  
  
The line went dead before Grissom could comment.  
  
Starting to jog, Grissom held the phone in his fist. "He's going to kill her. We have to   
get there now!"  
  
Brass and Nick needed no further encouragement and soon the three men were   
running through the silent park.  
  
~*~  
  
Tears she could no longer contain ran unashamedly down her cheeks. With a hand she   
couldn't keep steady no matter how hard she tried, Catherine picked up another pill   
from the combination he'd laid out in front of her.  
  
She knew if she stopped, the gun he was aiming at her head would fire and there'd be   
no chance of a rescue.  
  
Putting the blue and yellow pill on her tongue, Catherine reached out for the bottle of   
vodka he'd opened – the second – and swallowed it down in one mouthful. She   
winced at the feel of the pill sliding down her throat, tears dripping from her chin   
when he motioned for her to pick up another.  
  
She was trying to keep count but the combination of alcohol and drugs was making   
her mind play tricks and her thoughts hazy. She thought she'd taken ten or twelve   
before making the phone call to Grissom and another three after hanging up.  
  
"Please don't do this," she begged, hesitating in picking up another of the tablets   
neatly lined up on the table. "Please.. I don't want to die.."  
  
"Keep going," Millander ordered roughly, the hand holding the gun steady as it aimed   
at her forehead. "One way or another, you're going to die. It'll be tidier if you do what   
you're told. Less distressing for Grissom." He smirked at the glare that momentarily   
arranged her features. "Come on, Catherine. We don't have all night. Or would you   
rather he find you with your brains splattered all over the place? Would you rather   
your daughter bury her mother without being able to see her to say goodbye?"  
  
Shaking her head wordlessly, Catherine lowered her gaze to the pills. She was either   
seeing double or he'd put more out when she wasn't looking. Another table, too.   
Glancing up at him, she knew the combination was taking a greater hold over her   
senses. She was definitely seeing double or Millander had sprouted a twin. "I can't.. I   
feel sick.. Tired.."  
  
"Keep going," he barked, repeating his order. "Keep going or I'll do it for you."  
  
Attempting to appease him and pick up another pill, Catherine was dismayed to find   
that not only had she lost her focus but also the ability to move. Her arms refused to   
cooperate, hanging loosely, lifelessly, at her sides. "I can't." Her voice was almost a   
whine, that of a petulant child who was overtired but was refusing to go to bed. "I   
can't move."  
  
Growling in the pit of his throat, Millander put the gun down the waist of his trousers   
and moved closer. He picked up a handful of pills and grabbed her cheeks, forcing   
them in her mouth despite her protests. He closed his hand over her mouth before she   
could spit them out and held the bottle of vodka to her lips, forcing her to chose   
between drinking or choking. He massaged her throat with his spare hand, making   
sure the pills went too far down for her to cough back up.  
  
When he pulled away, Catherine spluttered and choked. She lost her balance and fell   
from the chair she'd been precariously balanced on, unable to brace herself with arms   
that wouldn't move.  
  
"There you go, that wasn't so bad, was it, Catherine?" Millander stood over her, the   
gun back in his hand. He was grinning triumphantly, a grin that faded when the door   
to the warehouse they were in opened with a bang. "Guess our times up," he muttered,   
lifting the gun in his hand. "Don't worry, Catherine. It'll all be over soon."  
  
His finger tightened on the trigger and the sound of a single gunshot rang out in the   
warehouse, echoing off the walls.  
  
Catherine, having braced herself for the impact, was surprised when she heard a thud   
and saw he'd fallen to the floor beside her.  
  
Half of his face was missing.  
  
Crying, with equal parts of relief and fear, she tried to focus blurry eyes on the figure   
she could see moving towards her. She couldn't tell who it was until she was in his   
arms, his hand running through her hair, his words murmured in her ear.  
  
"It's okay, Catherine. I've got you, you're safe." Gil. Murmuring to her as he would a   
child, trying to comfort her, reassure her.  
  
Shaking her head against him, she forced her mouth to move, concentrating   
everything she had on forming the words. "Drugs.. Alcohol. Overdose.. Gil.."  
  
Her heart was pounding and sweat broke out across her brow. She felt sweaty and sick   
and hot and cold all at once. The world spun and she only had a vague knowledge of   
what was going on.  
  
She heard him swear and felt him move her. She felt his fingers down her throat and   
although she initially tried to protest, the tiny part of her mind that was still coherent   
realised what he was doing and forced her body to relax.  
  
Her stomach heaved and she closed her eyes against the dizzying shades of black that   
was all she could see. Catherine didn't know how long she was held in his arms, one   
of his hands in her mouth, encouraging her gag reflexes, all she knew was that he was   
helping her.  
  
Saving her.  
  
With that reassuring thought in mind, Catherine did her best to fight against the tide of   
unconsciousness until Grissom eased her back into a lying position and then she   
gratefully let the world close in around her and everything went black.  
  
~*~  
  
"Thanks for this, Gil, I really appreciate it." Catherine's smile was reward enough but   
Grissom wasn't about to tell her that. He watched in amusement as Lindsey Willows   
got out of the Tahoe, bounding up to the front door before realising she didn't have a   
key and couldn't get inside.  
  
Walking around to offer Catherine a helping hand, even though he knew the offer   
would be decline, Grissom couldn't help but grin. "It's not a problem, Catherine. It's   
about time you and Lindsey found a new place. Away from the memories."  
  
"Running away from the memories won't make them go away," Catherine commented   
as she looked up at her new temporary home. "But at least we can make a fresh start."   
She flashed him another smile as they walked up towards the front door where her   
daughter was waiting impatiently. "Are you sure you don't mind us staying here until   
we find a place of our own? Louise said we could stay there but.."  
  
"It's no problem at all, Catherine. Stop worrying about it." He hoped, secretly, that she   
wouldn't find a new house as soon as she was expecting. "You and Lindsey are   
welcome. For as long as you need to stay."  
  
In truth, he was as glad to have them close by. He'd come close to losing her and   
didn't know how to reconcile the emotions he felt because of it. His mind kept   
replaying her words over and over again, the ones Millander had forced her to say.  
  
'I love you, Gil.'  
  
Had Millander forced her to say his name or had that been an adlib on her part?  
  
Grissom didn't know, couldn't know for certain, but it was something he was going to   
think about. Something he hoped to investigate further and hopefully discover the   
answer to during her extended stay at his house.  
  
Hopefully, if the answer was what he wanted it to be, the extended stay would be   
extended some more. Losing her once was something he could cope with – only just.   
Losing her again was something he refused to think about.  
  
"Gil?" Pausing in walking up the steps to his door, Catherine had stopped when she   
noticed he wasn't walking beside her. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"No. No," he forced a quick smile and covered the distance between them. "I was just   
thinking.. I was just thinking how close he got. If we hadn't got there in time.." He   
decided to go for the honest route, knowing she'd see through any lie he fed her.  
  
"But you did. You got there. It's not worth dwelling on what might have been when   
we're living what was." She smiled, tentatively, shyly. An unusual smile for   
Catherine. "You've got me and I've got you. We'll be okay as long as that's how it   
stays."  
  
"Yeah. It'll be okay." Reassured by her words, Grissom continued walking with   
Catherine at his side, grinning at Lindsey's impatient expression, which made the   
young girl blush and giggle. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open for them and   
bowed mockingly. "Well, ladies.. Welcome to your new home."  
  
Lindsey giggled again and skipped inside, eager to explore his house more than she   
already had on previous visits. Catherine bit her lip to keep back a smile and followed   
her daughter in, enjoying the sensation of comfort that accompanied his words. 'Your   
new home.' A safe home, full of only good memories. One where she wouldn't be   
afraid to sleep and wouldn't fear for her life or her daughters.  
  
Watching her, Grissom smiled to himself at the look on her face and quietly closed   
the door behind them. 'I've got you, Catherine,' he thought to himself quietly. 'And I   
don't intend on letting you go.'  
  
~*~  
/part five  
~*~  
End of the story. 


End file.
